


Black & Blue (& You)

by pinkpompom



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Black Eyes, Blood, Cuddling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tenderness, getting beat up, physical damage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 11:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkpompom/pseuds/pinkpompom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt often gets himself into trouble with his over-bearing personality and big mouth, but this time he goes a bit too far and backs himself into a corner (or rather, a fist).<br/>Hermann takes care of his wounds and kisses his tears away, then they snuggle.</p><p>AKA a big excuse to write a hurt/comfort fic and I just like beating Newt up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black & Blue (& You)

Newt wasn’t usually one for picking fights. In fact, when he was younger, he was often doing everything he could to avoid getting into them. He had a lot of trouble with bullies and angry classmates that didn’t like the idea of a 14 year old being in their university lectures, and had definitely gotten his fair share of black eyes, split lips, and getting stuffed into lockers; so it goes without saying that he was wary.

However, today seemed to be a different story, as Newt had suddenly found himself on all fours, trying to find his glasses while one of the Cherno Alpha jaeger techs towered above him, fists clenched and a smirk on his face. Newt had a tendency of getting himself into trouble with that loud mouth of his, and didn’t always exactly get along with the staff around the Shatterdome. He blamed it on them all being too stupid to follow with his fast-paced, one-sided conversations, and they usually rolled their eyes and blamed it on his eccentric obsession with the kaiju, or whatever he was talking about, anyway (if they could understand him, that is).

This time though, Newt had managed to talk himself into a corner, or rather, into a fist. He’d maybe sort of insulted the techs, and may or may not have compared them to a particular species of ape wielding heavy tools. Either way, he had found out the hard way that not everyone likes a sarcastic chatterbox, or has the patience to control their more physical outbursts.

A fist had landed hard in Newt’s gut, then a hand clamped over his shoulder, another fist to his face, and his glasses went flying to the floor, making a rather distinctly distressing crack sound. Newt felt his nose make a similar sound, refracturing in the same place it once had when he was 16. A thick stream of crimson trickled down his lip and onto his shirt, leaving deep stains in the light fabric. As he dropped to his knees to fumble for his only means of clear vision, he received another blow, this time from a foot to his stomach, causing him to slip and fall flat on his chest, his cheek hitting the hard steel floor with a loud smack.

The (fucking dense, subintelligent, unevolved, pitiful excuse for a) jaeger tech wiped his hands off on his coveralls and spit on the ground before walking away, leaving Newt sitting in a slump against the wall. He wiped his nose, feeling the warm blood smear against his palm and bruised cheek. His eyes were starting to feel tender, and he cussed under his rattling breath as he realized he was probably going to end up with matching black eyes; just fucking perfect. He reached for his glasses and feebly placed them back on his face, trying his best to look through the new crack on the left lens.

As Newt stood up to walk back to his room, he felt a sharp twinge of pain press into his skin in his chest and yelped out loud, clutching at his ribs and collapsed back down into the wall. He gingerly lifted up the edge of his shirt, lightly tapping two fingers along the ridges of his ribcage to feel a sudden jut-out, then gasped and cringed in pain. Well fuck, now he has cracked ribs too? That’s perfect, really, honestly, it’s not like he has to stand up and run around the fucking lab all the time to do his work or anything.

Newt grumbled and rubbed at his nose some more, wiping the blood down the front of his shirt and smearing it across his lips. He finally managed to stand and work his way down the hallway, albeit a bit shaky and slow.

Just as he finally got to his door and was fumbling to enter his pin number, he heard the oh-so familiar sound of clicking against the steel floor.

Just great.

Newt was seriously hoping he’d have a chance to patch himself up before Hermann got the opportunity to look at him. He was completely not ready to be scrutinized and frowned upon; he knew he looked like a fucking disgrace, soaked in blood and bruises and broken bones… Motherfucker broke his bones. Jesus Christ, what a douchecanoe.

It’s not as if Hermann was an asshole to him constantly, they still were “a thing” (neither of them had really assigned a name to what their relationship was at this point), a mind-melded, drift compatible “thing” that kissed and fucked and slept together. Newt just didn’t know what to expect from Hermann seeing him like this; this disheveled, torn-apart mess coated in blood and rips and tears and who knows what else. He was still unpredictable like that.

Before Newt could get the door open, he felt a warm palm on his back and flinched at the touch as it grazed a new-forming bruise.

"Newton, what’s…" Hermann trailed off as his eyes widened at the state of Newt. He first noticed the deep crimson stains in his shirt, then the faint purple bruising appearing on his cheek and eyes.

"I-it’s fine! I’m fine, it’s okay, I—" Newt felt his words get heavy and thick, caught in his throat as it tightened against his will. "It’s not…" He spun around to meet Hermann’s face, to catch a glimpse of that hopefully disapproving glare and stiff posture, in hopes of giving himself the slap in the face he felt like he needed in that moment.

Instead he was met with a look he doesn’t think he’d ever seen on Hermann’s face before. His normally dark and narrow eyes were wide, his broad mouth fallen into a slack-jawed gawk instead of the usual thin-lipped line across his face.

Newt stuttered out a few syllables as he tried to make sense of Hermann’s expression, but found both hands being placed on his shoulders again. Before he knew what was happening, his vision blurred and hot tears were streaming down his cheeks, leaking out from behind his glasses and catching in his stubble. Newt felt himself shaking, his hands quivering to reach up to Hermann’s, to grasp at his thin fingers. His knees buckled and his gasped as the sharp jolt of pain resonated through his chest again.

Hermann quickly entered the code himself under Newt’s arm, opened the door and dragged him inside; a difficult task paired with his cane.

Newt felt himself falling into the bed, yelling out loud through his sobs as his ribs cracked for what felt like the 100th time. He rolled to his good side, clutching at his abdomen pathetically and pressing his face into the mattress.

Hermann sat himself in their rolling desk chair quickly and scooted over to the edge of the bed.

"N-Newton, please, let me have a look at you!" His voice was desperate almost, pleading with Newt to let him help him.

Newt obliged, still clutching at himself as he delicately sat himself upright, his face still shining with fresh tears.

"What’s this..? Let me see, please…" Hermann tapped Newt’s hand away carefully, then unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the masterpiece of ink that swept across Newt’s torso. With thin and gentle fingers, Hermann ran his hand along Newt’s ribs to find the crack, stopping at the slight jut-out of bone against skin, and another loud choked yelp.

Hermann winced at the pain he did not doubt Newt was experiencing, but did his best to remain calm and helpful. All he wanted was to fix him, patch him up, dry his tears and blood and make it all better. It was excruciating to see Newt like this broken mess. He had no idea what caused it, but assumed he had run his mouth off a bit too much again and gotten himself into trouble. It wasn’t an uncommon event, as this had happened a few times in the past, but never quite as severely. Hermann shook his head as he thought of who might have caused this much damage to Newton, and actually believed they were justified in doing so. He decided he would ask about it later, when Newt had stopped shaking and crying into him.

He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to Newt’s chest, just along his clavicle. Newt whimpered, but placed a shaky hand on Hermann’s arm in response.

"Can you stand and make it to the washroom? Or would you prefer to stay here?" 

Hermann’s tone was soft and patient, and Newt nearly melted further into the bed with each word. He felt brittle and helpless, but was at least ten times better than dealing with it himself. Except, well, he didn’t exactly feel like he could stand any more, like his knees had turned to jelly and his eyes felt so heavy he could hardly see Hermann’s tender expression in front of him.

“… No… c-can I stay here?” Newt managed to stutter out before burying his face into his hands again, feeling the sting of tears pushed against his bruised eyes. He heard Hermann make a small nose, then the sound of the chair rolling back and his cane fading away around him. Newt sat in (mostly) silence for a while, doing his best to choke back what was left of his sobs. He felt like a pitiful mess, and he felt even worse for putting that mess on Hermann to deal with. He just wanted to curl up under the covers and sleep til he could wake up and it was all healed away.

Hermann returned with a small first aid kit, as well as a glass of water. He retook his place in the chair and placed the kit on the bed before reaching out to touch Newt’s arms again. 

“Newton…” Hermann’s hand reached up towards his cheek and grazed across the stubble. “Allow me to… clean this up, darling.”

Newt felt himself blush slightly as he removed his hands from his face. He took off his glasses and tried his best to look Hermann in the face, though his poor vision paired with the swelling of his eyes didn’t make it very easy. “It-- ah… it’s not as bad as it looks…” he mumbled quietly as he felt a hand reach towards his face.

Hermann sighed as he looked into Newt’s normally beautiful, sparkling green eyes and only saw red veins and puffy skin. “It’s alright, I’ll do my best to fix it either way.” He dabbed a damp cloth to Newt’s skin, wiping up the blood along his lips, careful to not press too hard into the bruising on his cheek. He felt Newt flinch and fresh tears started streaming down his face again, but he didn’t pull away. “Shh, shh, It’s quite alright…” Hermann rubbed his free hand along Newt’s arm to sooth his jolted sobbing. “Newt… It’s alright, I’m here with you… clean you up and then we can sleep.” 

He finished wiping away the blood and handed Newt a small icepack tucked inside another cloth. “You can press this to your eyes, it should help.” He fumbled inside the kit for a moment and removed a large roll of gauze. “May I remove your shirt, darling?” 

Newt nodded briefly and shrugged his shoulders, causing the already unbuttoned shirt to slink off his arms into a pile. Hermann removed the shirt from his wrists and placed it on the nearby desk. He leaned forward and gently wrapped the fresh gauze around Newton’s chest a few times; carefully making sure it remained snug enough around his ribs.

“We can have this looked at in the morning, yes?” Hermann stood up and closed the kit, reaching for his cane again and moving away from the bed. “Now, here…” he handed Newt the glass of water and a small pill. “Take that, please.” 

Newt swallowed the pill and leaned into the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest, recoiling as he felt the crack again. “Can we just… go to sleep?”

“Of course, that’s what we’re doing now, don’t you worry.” Hermann opened the closet to pull out his own pair of flannel pajamas, but decided against it. Newt always protested him wearing so much clothing to bed, often stating (rather matter-of-factly) that bedtime was the only time he got to see him in less than sixteen layers, so he should get to touch his skin. Hermann decided to give him that much tonight.

He removed his tweed jacket and sweater vest, unbuttoned his shirt and folded them all over the back of the desk chair before moving to remove his matching tweed trousers. Newt lied sideways on the bed watching him through one eye, no longer sobbing but not really much else either. He had wrapped his arms around himself, creating a swarm of yellow, orange, blue, and black ink, only broken by the line of thick white gauze around his middle. His hair had sloped to one side, and his jeans were already halfway down his thighs, revealing the orange and green Godzilla underwear he had on.

Hermann finished removing all his clothes, leaving himself in only his black boxer briefs, and flicked off the light before walking over to the bed to sit down next to Newt. “Do you want me to remove your trousers?” 

Newt shook his head into the pillow and kicked his legs around a bit until his jeans had wiggled down to his ankles, and kicked them off onto the floor. He pulled his legs up and then slid under the covers, holding it open for Hermann to join him.

Hermann smiled weakly and shifted himself to meet Newton’s body under the blanket. They turned towards the wall, with Newt fit snugly against Hermann’s body in a comforting spooning position. Hermann kissed Newt’s back, and carded his fingers through his hair gently. Newt sniffled quietly, letting his eyes fall shut and his breathing steady itself slowly. 

“Thanks, Hermm…” Newt mumbled almost inaudibly into the pillow.

Hermann kissed Newt’s shoulder blade and rubbed his cheek into the soft, undamaged skin. “Don’t thank me…” He muttered. “I love you. Now, sleep.”

There was more than enough time to deal with everything else tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> I write a lot of my fics on the note feature on my iPhone, so if there's weird grammatical errors it's because it's hard to type, lmao. I try to fix them all as best I can!


End file.
